Screaming Silently
by RussoGermany
Summary: He new how to hide the cuts and bruises so well that no one would know they were there. He could fake a smile through the pain that would even deceive himself. When he meets Derek, Derek reminds him how to live. Can Stiles break through to Derek, or will he get caught up in his own sufferings and sorrows? Human!AU, rated M for language and later. Cover Art by Torakodragon.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. If I did, Sterek would be canon by now.**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! I've been struck with these multiple story ideas all at the same time, and I didn't want to lose them. I recently was introduced into the Sterek fandom by my good friend, and I really like it! This story, like most of mine, has dark themes in it, and/or a lot of angst. I'm just warning you up front. Quick note:**_

_**Derek-18**_

_**By making it a human AU, I also changed Derek's age so he would be in high school too. So, saving the rest of my ranting until the end of the chapter, please read, REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and enjoy! Here's chapter 1:**_

* * *

Stiles brought the damp cloth up to his face, gingerly placing it on his cut that had reopened overnight. Another fight at school the day before had left him battered and bruised, once again. Looking back on his history at the school, Stiles had to admit that his fight record was terrible. But, the guy was only 147 pounds of pale skin and bones, and sarcasm wasn't quite a good defense against the assholes at school who were just hunting for a good fight. Stiles was sick of it, but it had almost become routine. Every time he got into a fight, he would brush it off, and do his best to hide the lasting marks from the previous day's events before he felt even remotely good enough to walk out into public.

He looked at his face again in the mirror, noticing that another bruise from last week had finally completely disappeared, leaving just more pale skin in its place. Stiles sighed slightly, and then finished cleaning the wound. After doing so, he turned the lights off and walked out to get dressed for school. As he was walking out, he glanced briefly at his back, which was littered with bruises. Luckily for him, those were so much easier to hide than ones on the face. The soreness in his muscles and the deep ache beneath each bruise however, was something very real and very painful.

Realizing he was late for school, Stiles quickly put on a pair of dark navy pants, and the red sweatshirt that was hanging on the back of his desk chair. Tossing on a pair of socks and some white Puma sneakers, he grabbed his backpack and walked out of the room, swinging his arm down quickly to snatch up his cellphone. He hit the menu button on the phone, displaying the screen in bright colors. After hitting a few more buttons, he opened his text message inbox.

1 New Message.

Stiles flicked open the message, and looked at the name of the sender. It was Scott. Scrolling down slightly, he read the message.

"R u ok?"

Stiles didn't bother replying. The time on the text message was 5:37 P.M. yesterday, so Scott had no doubt given up on waiting for a reply from Stiles. Every time Stiles was in a fight, Scott would jump in and help stop whoever was attacking him. He would never swing at the other person though, because he didn't want to attract negative attention to himself. Scott would just separate the attacker from the victim, and then walk with Stiles for a moment to make sure he was okay, after which he'd leave. Stiles wished he would stay around a little bit longer, because then, just then might Scott see that there was so much going on underneath Stiles' shell that could burst forth at any moment. But he couldn't do that to his best friend. Stiles had never opened up to anyone completely. And he thought he never would.

He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to pick up something to eat on a run-by breakfast. Stiles settled for an orange, and then grabbed the keys to his jeep before walking out the door. He was glad that his dad had already left for his job as sheriff, otherwise he might have asked about the cut. Stiles' dad was usually never home, and he wasn't the most observant, but even his dad couldn't miss a large cut streaking down the side of his face. Last time he had noticed something, he spent roughly 30 minutes grilling Stiles and trying to get the teen to tell him what was going on at school. Stiles played each attempt off with expert responses. He didn't have the heart to tell his dad that he was being bullied. If he did, then that would make his dad feel like a failure as a single parent, and that it was something that he did that brought about the bullying, which could not possibly be further from the truth. He didn't need his dad worrying about him, especially after all of the grief he normally puts up with. '_Who knows_,' Stiles thought. '_Maybe today will be better than yesterday_.'

* * *

SLAM!

Stiles' backpack fell to the tile floor as he was slammed into the metal locker painfully. This was probably just another asshole that couldn't wait to tear Stiles up again. He hated always being the victim, but when the attackers were twice his size, there wasn't really anything Stiles could do about it. He just always tried to hide in the background so that no one would personally pursue him or have a reason to be mad at him. Stiles' back was absolutely killing him, but he showed no sign of the compounded pain as the new sensation combined with the old aches. Next came the loud and rather obnoxious voice.

"Hey Fagginski, how's it hangin?"

'_How original_,' Stiles thought briefly. '_The fucking dumbass couldn't even come up with something new to use to insult me?_'

"Your boyfriend, Scott whatever his name was, isn't here to help you this time, so why don't you just give me money, and I might only stick with your face today?" the bully taunted him.

"I don't have money," Stiles returned. "He's not my boyfriend. And you already knew that I was alone, so why do you keep wasting my-"

Stiles was cut off as the bully suddenly began to pull up on the collar of his sweatshirt, slowly lifting the smaller teen off of the ground. The initial shock of being lifted silenced Stiles, but soon, he found himself struggling to take in a breath. The bully was slowly suffocating him, and no one was around to stop him.

"So, where do you want it first?" the devilish bastard jeered. "I know!"

He abruptly dropped Stiles, only to knee him in the stomach before his feet touched the ground and reached some sort of stability again after being lifted. It fucking hurt. Stiles would admit that it hurt in his head, but he would not allow himself to let out a single sound to give the bastard any satisfaction for his brutality. This seemingly infuriated the bully even further, as he went to grab Stiles' collar again. "You ready to give me what I want yet?"

"I don't have money for you," Stiles retorted. "If you want some, go get a job you lazy ass. Stop wasting my time and just do what you're here to do." The same process repeated, only this time, the bully slammed his head flat against the lockers instead of dropping him. The sharp ache in his skull quickly spread throughout the rest of his body, adding to all of the other pain up to this point. However, Stiles still did not make a single sound.

"You don't get it do you," the teen taunted again. "I just hate you in general. I want you to drop dead you lowlife piece of shit. You should disappear. Move away. Die. Like I give a shit what happens to you. You always walk around like you own the place, but your cockiness and self-importance will come back to bite you in the ass. If not, then I guess I'll just have to teach you a new lesson."

"Put him down."

What?

Stiles never heard that voice before. If it was Scott, then the bully would have been pushed away from Stiles by now. If it was a teacher, they would be threatening detention right now. If it was a female, the voice would have been higher. Stiles could tell that it wasn't Isaac's voice, because Isaac was home sick today. Afraid of possible disappointment of someone not being able to back up their order, or another person to use him as their personal punching bag, Stiles lowered his head, and stared directly at the floor.

The bastard who still had his hand around Stiles' neck threw his head back in laughter, thinking that the person who ordered him to do so in fact WAS Scott. "Listen Scott," he began. "Back the fuck off. You don't know what you're doing here so mind your own business." He turned back to Stiles, who slowly closed his eyes, and offered his face up for the next blow. But, the person who had ordered Stiles to be put down only moved closer. Slowly, Stiles felt himself slide down the wall as the bully was putting him down in order to face the newcomer. Stiles didn't feel like watching, so he continued to slink down against the wall until he was curled up in himself like a ball resting against the wall.

"Look buddy, I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you don't get to tell me what I can and can't do," the bastard began. "So if you'll just kindly-"

WHAM!

"FUCK! DAMMIT YOU ASSHOLE! MY FUCKING FACE! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?"

"I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine. You are the worst kind of person. You are exactly the kind of person I hate. So back off."

Stiles hadn't bothered to look up, but the grip he had on his knees had tightened considerably since he had been sitting in that position. But he heard quickly retreating footsteps. After a few seconds passed in the tense atmosphere, Stiles heard soft footsteps approaching him. He heard the rustle of clothes, as he guessed the newcomer as kneeling down now. He was a little surprised when he felt the hand clasp on his shoulder, but even more so when the hand gently shook him, trying to stir Stiles from his position. Stiles didn't move at first, so the voice came again, much softer than it had before.

"Are you okay?"

Stiles looked up, and he saw the person who had come to help him out in his time of need. His heart stopped for a moment, half out of pure fear of the intimidating vibe that this guy was putting out, and half because of…well Stiles didn't quite know what. The new guy was dressed in mostly black. His black pants had a chain on them, presumably linking to his wallet which was in his pocket. The only article of clothing on the guy that was not black was his plain gray t-shirt, which was admittedly a little tight, showing off the guy's muscular physique. Not that Stiles was staring or anything. Okay he was, but it was mostly out of jealousy that he didn't have a body like that. But the guy's face was nothing to scoff at either. He had a little bit of black stubble on his chin, and his hardened face looked as though it had seen much hardship in its years of existence, but it was trying its best to help out Stiles. He smirked slightly, showing off brilliant white teeth, and he extended a hand to help Stiles stand up. When Stiles took it, he was immediately hauled up onto his feet.

"I…thanks…"

"Derek," the bigger teen said. "My name is Derek Hale."

"Stiles. Stiles Stilinski."

The bell immediately rang, and the hallway flooded with people. To Stiles' dismay, he saw Derek walking away, presumably to his next class. However, he did wave goodbye as he was walking away.

"Derek Hale, huh? Maybe I'll see you again."

* * *

_**So what did you think? I know it was a little short, but that will probably change as the story goes on, and the pace will get quicker. I promise not to hurt Stiles for TOO long, but it is necessary in order to get to what I have planned for you! I hope you enjoyed chapter one, so please leave a review and follow or favorite! Anonymous reviews are open, no flat out hate please :3.**_

_**Follow me on twitter: RussoGermany**_

_**Or on Tumblr: russogermany121**_

_**Until next time! See you later!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. But I wish I did…**_

_**A/N: Hey! I'm back with chapter 2! I was really excited to see such a response in such short time! So, I decided to hurry along and publish this next chapter. The chapters will vary in length, but for right now they're still relatively short. I know some of you are worried about Stiles, and you should be (but I won't go TOO far). *Insert mischievous laugh here*. Saving my ranting for the end, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and ENJOY! Here's chapter 2:**_

* * *

"I'm sorry Stiles, you know I am," Scott apologized for the thousandth time. "You know I wouldn't have let someone do that to you."

"Stop apologizing Scott," Stiles returned. "You couldn't have helped. You were in class."

"But I wouldn't have been if I knew that was happening!" Scott continued.

"But you were! It happened! It always happens!" Stiles shot back, a little angrier than he had meant to be. He rubbed the back of his head, which was still in a shit-ton of pain. Stiles scanned the cafeteria, which was buzzing with people excitedly munching on their plentiful lunches. They all seemed so happy, so friendly, and so content with one another. It made Stiles sick. He knew that under the surface, those fuckers were just clamoring for a way to backstab one another to claw their way to the top of their respective social cliques and crews. The fact that someone could be so two-faced was a mystery to Stiles, and more so were the motives behind acting that way. Not that Stiles was any different. He told Scott most of the story, but nothing about Derek.

He'd try to keep that little secret to himself.

"Sorry for snapping at you," it was his turn to apologize. "How's Allison doing?"

"She's great!" Scott was off on another Allison tale in less than half of a second. Stiles knew that he could get Scott to change any subject, no matter how intense the previous conversation was, just by dropping Allison's name. They had been dating for a while now, and the two were practically inseparable. While Stiles knew how to use this to his advantage, as he had just done, he had to admit that sometimes he was tired of their relationship already. Scott was his best friend, sure, but the guy had never gone by the teachings of the statement "Bros before Hoes." At times when Stiles would want to admit that he needed someone to be by his side, to help him through a dark time, he usually went to Scott. But, that moment would almost always be interrupted by a text from Allison asking to meet up, or to go to the movies, or to go have dinner somewhere. That would leave Stiles alone, again, trying to deal with the pain himself. Stiles shook his head before he thought of…it…

He absentmindedly went into his backpack to reach for his lunch, before he realized that he had barely packed one this morning. He looked into the brown paper bag and found only a granola bar. "Fuck, no lunch again," Stiles complained. "Scott, can I borrow some money?"

"Yeah, sure," Scott said, going into his wallet. "How much do you need?"

"I just want to get a piece of pizza or something," Stiles returned. Moments later, Scott handed him five dollars, and pushed Stiles along to go get his food. Stiles turned around one last time before heading to the lunch line, to see Allison already over at the table, making out with Scott. '_Get a room_,' Stiles thought disgustedly. He started to walk across the cafeteria, dodging random people as they stood up. He was halfway across when he saw the fucker who tortured him in the hallway. He started to panic as he saw the bastard stand up. He was confused as to why the asshole had a sudden look of fear in his eyes. He was relieved to see the jerk sit back down and look the other way. But, Stiles was still confused as to why the sudden mood change had occurred in the first place.

Scott hadn't gotten up from the table. Stiles could still clearly see him and his girlfriend sucking face. '_Keep that up and you two might just succeed at finally eating each other_,' Stiles thought. But he quickly brought his attention back to the problem at hand. As soon as he had, a rough hand brushed through his hair, ruffling it slightly. Stiles winced in pain as he felt a thumb briefly make contact with the back of his head, which still hurt like a motherfucker. The brunette flinched away from the contact, but quickly composed himself so that he could face whoever had done so. It was probably another fucker who wanted money or something. He probably had heard about what had transpired in the hallway, and he knew that Stiles was still in pain. Now that Stiles was going to go get food, the bully probably knew that Stiles had money now too. So he turned around to face his could-be attacker, only to meet a look of concern and a pair of troubled eyes locked onto his.

"Are you okay?"

Derek Hale.

Fuck.

Wait.

Good thing.

Stiles was still in full on alert-mode ever since the encounter in the hallway, and he was seeing everyone as a possible attacker or enemy. But as for Derek, he still didn't quite know how to view Derek. He expected most people that dressed like Derek did to hate the world and all who inhabited it. He also expected most people who had the body of a fucking model to pick on him mercilessly. So far, he hadn't done either of those two things. Naturally, Stiles was completely baffled by Derek, as he was going against all that Stiles had known his entire high school life. He wished that he knew, but Stiles didn't think that he had the brain capacity to even ponder the idea of Derek Hale.

Intimidating as he was, Stiles couldn't help but think about the person underneath. And Stiles had been thinking about it all morning. In fact, he couldn't stop thinking about Derek. Outside the circle of friends that he had, no one was really nice to Stiles in the absence of a teacher. Those shallow assholes had nothing better to do than spread shit around about him. Most of the rumors that were spread around about him were harsh, cruel, and flat out painful to endure. Of course, some of the rumors were actually true, which made Stiles hurt even more to know how people looked down on him for stuff that actually happened to him, or stuff that he did, or who he was. Still, he was glad that most people were writing them off as rumors. He didn't think he could handle it if people knew that some of those things were true.

He didn't want people to know that his father was almost never home, so he was almost always alone.

He didn't want people to know that he had depression.

He didn't want people to know why new scars appeared on his body that weren't caused by others.

He didn't want people to know that he was gay.

He didn't want anyone to know anything about him.

Stiles was just waiting for Derek to throw one of these insults at him, but something inside told him that they would never come. No, Derek seemed to care about him individually, at least for an instant. Stiles was worried that his would blow over in a day or two, like it probably would. But it was nice to have someone show some sort of care for him other than Scott and Erica. Stiles wanted to make Derek be his friend, because something told him that he could trust him. However, Stiles didn't want to drag Derek into anything because he didn't want to risk Derek playing the protector role that Scott did. He saw how that drained Scott, and he didn't want to do that to another person.

"Hello?"

Stiles blinked, eyes still focused on Derek's. "What?"

"I said are you okay? You know, from earlier?" Derek pointed to the fucker sitting down, who seemed to slink further down into his chair.

"Oh, that…" Stiles voice trailed off, and he broke eye contact.

"Is your head better? Or should I take you to the nurse?" Derek's rough voice masked the concern that was truly being expressed underneath. But Stiles heard it. Stiles had been able to deceive enough people into believing that he was all smiles and sunshine, so he knew how to read people. He knew all of the tricks and traps that one could employ to protect their true motives, and he was able to break through them with a high rate of accuracy. There was the occasional misreading, which usually had terrible consequences, but his gut told him that there would be none here. Nevertheless, he decided to keep his observation to himself.

"I guess," Stiles shrugged off. "It still kind of hurts like a bitch, but what can I do? You get used to it I supposed."

"But why should you?"

Stiles froze. "What?"

"Why should you get used to it?"

Stiles dropped his head, his stare meeting the floor in a matter of moments. '_Because I…well I…you see…_' Stiles thought as he searched for an answer. But, nothing came to mind. He was completely stumped. Anything that he came up with sounded like a terrible response. The smaller teen couldn't just say flat out that he had to get used to the bullying because it was so frequent. He didn't want to admit that he couldn't handle himself, and he had a feeling that mentioning the frequent bullying would make it appear that way. He started to panic again, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "No one can escape pain!"

"That's not an excuse to be accustomed to it already though."

Fuck.

Derek Hale was something else.

"I didn't mean I was already used to it," Stiles stammered out. "I just figured that I should try to."

"But why should you try to get used to it? You speak like it's going to happen again!"

"BECAUSE IT WILL! IT ALWAYS HAPPENS AGAIN! NO MATTER WHAT I TELL MYSELF, IT ALWAYS HAPPENS AGAIN!"

Stiles swatted at the hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, before turning towards the door.

* * *

Scott turned around at the sudden outburst that he recognized as Stiles' voice. He saw three things: Stiles storming out of the cafeteria, people whispering to one another, and a confused looking senior who looked like he was nothing but trouble. He felt Allison pulling at his arm, and it was only then that he realized that he was already standing, but he shook Allison off and went over to talk to the senior. He covered ground fast, and soon enough, he was standing face to face with this new guy. He pulled him aside so that he could speak to him somewhat privately, or as private as a conversation in a cafeteria could get.

"What the fuck did you do to him!?" Scott whispered furiously, seething with anger. "He's been through enough already! Can't you fuckers just leave him alone!?"

"Me? What the fuck did I do?" Derek spat back roughly. "All I did was save his ass in the hallway earlier. Dude was getting the shit beat out of him. But if you don't want me to help him, then I guess I'll back off."

"Wait…you did what?" Scott stuttered. "He said that the bell rang and the guy left…"

"Well, then he didn't tell you the full story."

* * *

_**So what did you think of this chapter? A little bit of angst and feelings there. Is Stiles starting to crack? I guess we'll find out! Or, you will, because I already know! Tell me what you thought of this update: Anonymous review are active, no flat out hate please! Contest time:**_

**Want a sneak peek of the next chapter of "Screaming Silently"? All you have to do is include the phrase: "Don't be such a sourwolf!" in your review! I'll choose one of the entries to receive the sneak peek before the next chapter comes out!**

_**So please REVIEW and FAVORITE! Until next time, see ya!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf, but all of us Sterek shippers wish that we did...**_

_**A/N: Hey! Thanks everyone for coming back for chapter 3! Even though I have to get up early for a competition, I decided to stay up really freakin' late to update! Why? Because I can't leave you hanging…not until I drop a bigger bombshell on you guys to tear apart your feels :D. Anyways, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and ENJOY! Here's chapter 3:**_

* * *

"What do you mean…the full story?" Scott inquired curiously. "You mean to say that you were the one that stopped it?"

"Yeah," Derek shrugged. "He needed someone."

A wave of relief washed over Scott as the words came to his ears. He couldn't be happier that someone other than himself had helped Stiles and protected him. Maybe this was a sign that things were going to finally turn around. Scott had been hoping for this moment for many years now, but he was starting to think that an end to the bullying would never come. Maybe…just maybe this could be the start of something new.

"Well I can't thank you enough," Scott returned happily. "He really needs all of the help he can get. He's been through so much already…"

"Like what?" Derek asked.

"I…I can't tell you," Scott mumbled. "It's not my place to say anything. If he wants to tell you, then he will."

"Is it really that bad?" Derek returned.

"You have no idea," Scott said seriously. "That's why I try looking out for him. He needs someone there, he's my best friend, and he's fragile."

"I have no intention of hurting him," Derek said softly. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

"For right now, please just help him in any way you can," Scott instructed. "And let me know if you notice anything…strange."

"Strange?"

"Y'know," Scott began. "Behavior changes, scars, absences, that kind of thing."

"Scars from bullying?"

"Those. But, I've seen others too."

"I don't know if I understand…"

"Look," Scott said as he placed a hand on Derek's shoulder. The larger teen made somewhat of a low growling sound, or at least that's what it came across as, and Scott immediately took his hand off. "Just tell me if you see anything."

"Okay."

* * *

'_Damn Derek_,' Stiles complained. '_Like he even has a fucking clue. I'm not like you. I can't defend myself, I'm not cool, and I'm just a target. That's all I'll ever be…a fucking target._' School ended a while ago, but somehow his lunchtime encounter had managed to stay on his mind all afternoon. It made Stiles mad that Derek looked down at him with such pity. It was visible in his eyes, and Stiles hated being pitied. He knew that he was weak, but he never wanted anyone to pity him. It was insulting.

Stiles sped up in his jeep absentmindedly, while thoughts were now spilling out of his mouth. "I mean, who the fuck does he think he is? He doesn't know me, so he shouldn't have the right to do that! He doesn't know what I've been through! Fuck him! It's just pity. That's all it's ever been, and all it ever will be. That was just pity…pity…that's all I'll ever get…"

The brunette could do nothing to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes at this point. The warm droplets were rolling down his cheeks, and he could see his vision start to blur, but he didn't care. Stiles was already pulling into his driveway after the short trip home, but it had felt like he had been away forever. He grabbed his backpack out of the passenger seat and practically ran to his house. After locking his car, Stiles entered his house, and went straight up to his bedroom.

He couldn't handle going through this every single day. Another day, another douchebag. The vicious cycle was never broken, nor would it ever be. Stiles accepted it long ago, but there was no way that he could stand it anyways. He hated those fuckers. He hated how Scott always left him alone for sex with Allison. He hated how his dad was never home. Stiles just wanted to drown it all out.

He tossed aside his backpack, and threw off his sweatshirt so that it landed in the corner of his room. After doing so, he headed straight to the bathroom. He needed to make everything go away. The bathroom door flew open, and Stiles went for the cabinet. He tore it open, and rummaged through the contents. Once he found the object of desire, he slowly removed it.

Hidden underneath a shelf was a small knife.

Stiles drew the blade out slowly, and then stared at it for a moment, examining the quality of the blade. He twisted it left and right, trying to assess whether or not it was clean. He thought it was easier when the blade was clean, so that it wouldn't drag or bump. Once the blade had seemingly passed the inspection, he turned it on himself. Slowly, Stiles lowered the knife until it was about an inch from his arm, and then he hesitated, as he always did so. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and then he closed the gap between the sweet steel and his wanting flesh.

The first cut was slow, but his mind flooded fast.

Stiles eyes shot open as his skin broke, and blood began to pour out of his wounds, not profusely, but it came out nonetheless. He felt his mind start to get hazy at the somewhat prominent pain that the blade had brought on. It was welcomed like an old friend as his mental pain started to fade away. Stiles knew he could handle physical pain, and it seemed like his method of coping was somewhat paying off. "Shit!" he exclaimed as he pulled the knife away for a moment, the searing pain still cutting into him. It always took a moment to get his mind back in order before continuing, but he knew that in the end he would be better.

The second cut was large, but the relief was larger still.

Memories started to become blurry now, as all Stiles could concentrate on was the growing pain in his arm, as it spread throughout his body. He was glad that he could no longer feel as great a suffering in his mind, as all of his physical manifestations of the psychological pain were pouring out in crimson liquid that dripped on the floor. No insults, no worries, and no Derek. No look of concern, or pity, or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. Derek was fading from his mind quickly, and he was okay with that. He could almost imagine Derek bursting in and taking the knife, all while yelling at Stiles to try to get some common sense into his thick skull. Stiles winced and broke his train of thought as he realized that the cut was a little bit bigger than he intended it to be, but he knew that it was because his hand was now shaking, resisting the urge to fight whatever was hurting him currently.

The third cut was a mistake, as Stiles realized he went too far.

"Fuck!" Stiles said quietly as he pulled the blade away from the third cut. The pain in his arm was now intense, even beating out the pain that he felt in his head earlier on in the day. The cut started to sting even more now that he found his tears were dripping into the wound. The salty liquid stung instantaneously on contact with the red nectar that was now anything but flowing out of his wounds. In his brief moments of his mental vacation, he hadn't realized just how serious his situation was. He came a little too close to a vein, and now he couldn't stop bleeding. The cuts were too hasty and too deep to heal with just a little bit of pressure on them. Stiles came to that realization when no matter how hard he tried to clean the wounds, new blood would take its place instantly. The seemingly ever-crimson wound now began to worry Stiles, and he made a dash for his phone in utter panic. He punched in the number; the only one he knew would answer at the present time.

"Scott…" Stiles said as soon as he heard Scott's voice greet him. "Help."

"Stiles!? What's wrong!?" Scott's panicked voice came over the line.

"Doesn't matter," Stiles said. "Just come right now."

"Stiles I can't," Scott returned.

Fuck.

"But I'll send someone there right away! I'll call your dad!"

Double fuck.

"No!" Stiles shouted into the phone. "Anyone but him! But please hurry…"

"Okay, don't worry! I'll call Derek, and he'll be there in a few minutes!"

Triple fuck.

"Can I trust him…?" Stiles questioned softly. "Scott…can I trust him?"

"I trust him," Scott returned.

Stiles hung up the phone. Probably his current third worst fear had just been realized. Out of everyone that Scott could have sent, it had to be Derek Hale. This would look fucking pathetic to him. Stiles knew he already looked on him with pity, so when Derek walked in, there would be no way to change his image. Stiles desperately attempted to clean up his wound another time, but he the blood kept replenishing faster each time. He was really freaking out, and he was losing more blood by the minute. Stiles utilized every single thing he had learned from First Aid training. He applied pressure to his arm, he kept a…somewhat…sterile gauze on the wound, but the one thing he needed most he didn't have. He didn't have any bandages or something to keep the cuts covered. With Derek arriving any second, he didn't want to seem like a bleeding, pathetic mess.

But minutes passed, and he made no progress. He managed to slow the bleeding, but he already lost quite a bit of blood on the floor. This was the first time since he started cutting that he had done this. Stiles had no idea why this time was so different, and why this time he fucked up. He always read warnings online not to cut too deep, because he'd run the risk of hitting a vein. And that's exactly what Stiles believed that he had done. He was sitting on the toilet, panicking as the blood continued to trickle out, when he heard the front door open.

"Stiles!? Stiles, where are you!?"

"I'm upstairs…" Stiles feebly called back.

He immediately heard footsteps thundering up his staircase as Derek rushed towards the top. He saw the bathroom door open, and he rushed inside to find Stiles, covered in his blood. His jaw dropped, and Stiles couldn't shake the look that he was getting from Derek, no matter how hard he tried. In order to break the awkward tension, Stiles tried to quickly come up with a lie.

"I…uh…I fell and cut my arm on the towel rack," he fibbed with all of his heart.

"Then why is the knife covered in blood?"

Quadruple fuck.

Stiles had left the knife out on the bathroom counter, right next to the sink.

Derek promptly pulled out his phone and called 911. Stiles heard the whole conversation, and he heard the waver in Derek's voice as well. After he hung up, Derek turned all of his attention back to Stiles. Stiles didn't like it. He felt like he was being scrutinized, judged, and pitied all in one look. Derek looked him straight in the eye, never breaking eye contact once. One word left his mouth.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not strong enough to handle it anymore."

The next thing Stiles felt was Derek's arms wrapped tightly around him in a firm, yet tender embrace. Stiles froze up for a second, and then found himself clutching Derek's shirt as tears began to fall from his eyes. Together, they sank to the floor while Stiles cried into Derek's chest, and Derek held Stiles and kept pressure on the wound until the ambulance arrived.

* * *

_**So this chapter was a little darker…yeah. I'M SORRY STILES! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! This will probably be the worst thing that happens to Stiles though, so you can celebrate over the fact that you survived! I'll be back next week with another chapter. In the meantime, please review, favorite, and follow. Anonymous reviews are active, so no flat out hate please. REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE FASTER (and maybe post a day early)!**_

_**See you next time!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf, because if I did, then Sterek would be canon.**_

_**A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back for chapter four! I'm burying myself in my computer this weekend because I have to type up three lab reports, and I need to write my term paper. That being said, I need a break from all of the science and literature written by others and let my mind wander for a moment. So, saving my ranting for the end of the chapter, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, and ENJOY! Here's chapter 4:**_

* * *

Everything was so white when Stiles woke up.

His eyes opened slightly, and he was immediately blinded by the bright fluorescent light which was shining brilliantly on the ceiling. Stiles quickly raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unwanted light, and that when he realized that he was no longer wearing his own clothes. '_Fuck, I'm naked aren't I?_' Stiles thought to himself, but even then he realized that idea was definitely not possible. He glanced down and found his body draped in hospital robes, and he was laying in one of the beds. A white blanked was pulled up to his waist, and he had a patient's bracelet on his wrist.

"This is even worse…" Stiles murmured silently. Next he heard the steady beeping of his heart monitor which was right next to his bed. The lines were rhythmically moving along the screen, moving up when his heart beat again. Stiles stared at his heart monitor for a few more minutes, before he felt pain in his arm. He looked down at his arm, and memories of some of the day's events came flooding back to him. One of the cuts was stitched up tightly, the one which was bleeding profusely earlier. He reached down to touch it, and it stung the instant his fingers brushed against the stitches. The brunette withdrew his hand immediately, and turned his gaze towards the ceiling. '_Great_,' Stiles mentally complained. '_Now everyone at school will think I'm suicidal, or that I'm masochistic, or that I'm a freak_.'

He looked back towards his arm which was littered in very small, almost unnoticeable scars that seemed to run like miniature indentations on his arm. From a distance, no one would be able to see the patchwork of scars running up his arm. However, from up close, they were plentiful enough to draw some attention. That's why Stiles always wore sweatshirts and long-sleeve shirts: they hid the scars better than anything.

Stiles was snapped out of his current train of thought by the sound of clothing rubbing against something, and very faint breathing. The clothing sounded strained, not flowing like cotton, but something stiffer. Stiles hoped that whoever it was, it was a doctor or it was Scott.

Scott…

He wanted to punch the fuck out of Scott right now. Why was he not able to come and help him when he needed an ambulance, or just someone there to try to assist him? Instead he called Derek for help…wait…

Stiles picked his head up and turned it towards the sound of the faint breathing that he heard coming from another place in the room. And sure enough, Derek was sitting down in a chair, completely passed out. His black pants and leather jacket were still in place, and his gray t-shirt was peeking out from underneath his jacket. Tucked tightly between Derek's strong arms was Stiles red sweatshirt, and the rest of his clothes were neatly folded and placed between his feet. Stiles looked over Derek again, laughing slightly to himself when he saw the larger teen shift slightly in his sleep and pull the sweatshirt closer. "Guess he's kind of worn out too…" Stiles said, not minding the volume of his voice.

Derek's head shot straight up, and Stiles froze for an instant as he was met with a look of pure fear and confusion. Sure he looked tough on the outside, but there was clearly something eating away at Derek. Stiles noticed it a few times, and now it was more prominent than ever. He had only ever seen that look from someone else one other time in his life. It was the look his mother had given him when she was…Stiles shook his head.

"Hey…" Stiles tried. While he didn't particularly feel like talking, he knew that he owed Derek. "You look like hell…are you okay?"

"Why do you do it?"

Stiles knew this was coming. He knew that Derek would want to question him right away. He didn't know if Derek was just genuinely concerned, or if there was some ulterior motive behind his inquiries. Stiles always hesitated to trust people, but there was something about Derek that just made it okay.

"Tell me!" Derek's voice broke slightly as he spoke. Derek was now all but crushing the red sweatshirt into his chest as he sat waiting for Stiles answer. Stiles took notice, smirked slightly, and then laid back down on the bed.

"I do it to forget," Stiles said calmly after about a minute of silence.

"Forget what?"

"Everything," Stiles returned. "I hate it. Every time I go to school I get shit from other people. It's gotten worse over the years. So once I started cutting, all of my emotional pain went away. I forgot all about those assholes, and all of those thoughts were replaced with pain. I can handle physical pain…but I'm not strong enough to handle all of the emotional pain. Cutting takes all of that away from me, and makes it more manageable."

"But even then the memories still come back, so what's the point?" Derek asked.

"The point is that cutting is relief…no matter how temporarily…I just want to escape it all," Stiles stated. "You know…I've thought about running away. But then again, I couldn't get too far away without someone noticing and telling my dad where I've gone…"

"You shouldn't run away! That wouldn't solve anything!" Derek interjected. "People would miss you."

"Yeah…they'd miss their punching bag," Stiles shot back, a little more venomously than he intended to in the first place. "No…and even then…it's not just running away I think about…"

"You don't mean…"

"I do," Stiles said firmly. "I've even come close about three times. Standing on the roof of a building, looking over the edge and wondering what hitting the ground would feel like, and if it would be over quickly. What would it feel like if I use the knife to cut somewhere else, and paint the bathroom red? Does drowning hurt, or is it as quick and painless as falling asleep?"

Stiles was snapped out of his train of thought by to arms pulling him into a tight embrace. Derek was trembling, and Stiles could tell that he had gone too far. Strange…Stiles was supposed to be the one fucked up in the head, so why was he the one comforting Derek? Nevertheless, Stiles started to return the hug, and he let himself be fully enveloped in Derek's warmth as embrace dragged on, their bodies flush together perfectly. "Hey there…I wouldn't actually do it though! I mean, I have too big of a personality to actually do something as uncool as that, right?"

"Promise me you won't…"

"Okay," Stiles assured. "I won't."

"And that you'll stop cutting…"

"But…what if," Stiles started, and then was immediately cut off.

"If you need some way to forget the pain, then you can come see me," Derek stated wholeheartedly, still holding tightly to Stiles.

"Fine, I promise…but, why do you care so much about me?" Stiles asked. He was half hoping for a cheesy and romantic line, but at the same time he dreaded the possibility of one. The idea of being in a relationship with Derek Hale was definitely exciting to Stiles, and not to mention that Derek's body was amazing. But, Stiles wanted to get to know him better. His head was swimming with thoughts when a simple three word response came to him. Just three words, but they weren't the three that Stiles was envisioning Derek saying to him.

"You don't remember?" Derek asked quietly.

Stiles stopped. He searched his memory for anything he could have done recently to help out Derek, either directly or indirectly. But no matter how hard he thought, he could not come up with anything. "Uh no…but any chance you want to remind me?"

"Well…" Derek shifted uncomfortably. He was about to continue when the door burst open.

Scott.

Punch.

Kick.

Bite.

Claw.

Maim.

DO SOMETHING.

"Stiles!? Are you okay!?" Scott almost shouted, and he ran right between Derek and Stiles. However, Stiles peered around Scott just to see Derek slowly slink back into his own seat, while simultaneously giving Scott a death glare. He could have sworn that he even heard Derek growl at Scott…

"Scott! I'm okay," Stiles returned with a smile on his face, but sensing some thick tension in the room. While his attention was mostly on Scott energetically asking about his wellbeing every two seconds, Stiles couldn't help but shift his attention towards Derek every few seconds, watching his every reaction to what Scott was saying. He seemed offended with every word that passed Scott's lips. Last time Scott mentioned Derek, he said that he trusted him. What had Scott done to make Derek not like him?

"Hey Scott…" Stiles started.

"Yeah bud?"

"Where were you? You said that you couldn't come earlier, so I just wanted to know…you know…" and Stiles immediately regretted asking that question, because he somewhat knew the answer even before he asked the question. So all he did was look with empty hopes at Scott as he awaited the answer to come from his own mouth.

"I was with Allison," Scott said, hints of regret in his voice. Whether the regret was from leaving Allison early to go see Stiles or not leaving Allison early enough to go help Stiles was an entirely different question. But, nonetheless Stiles' guess had been correct. It was always Allison. Every excuse, every day, every minute, every second was Allison. Ever since she and Scott had started dating, she snuck in and cut Stiles out of his life like a knife. And it killed Stiles inside that he was losing his best friend to her.

"Because apparently she's more important to him," Derek said roughly. All hints of gentleness in his voice that he had used earlier with Stiles were completely gone. It was like a completely different Derek had emerged, and he was furious. Stiles looked around Scott to see that Derek was already standing up, and his fists were balled tightly at his sides. "His best friend could be dying, but he'd rather stay at some girl's house if it means that he might get lucky."

Stiles was stunned. '_So that's why Derek has been so pissed since Scott got here?_' He was definitely surprised that Derek would talk back to Scott, but with the menacing aura he was emitting, Stiles could also tell that Derek had meant to say every single word that he had. "But I guess it's no big deal if you just send someone to pick him up for you. As long as your penis finds a happy place, I bet you don't have a goddamn care in the world."

"Hey!" Scott began. "Don't you dare judge me! You don't know my life! You only know Stiles!"

"Well I bet after the past few minutes here with him that I know more about him than you do!" Derek spat back. "He needs to be looked after, and you're abandoning him in his time of need! Some real friend you are."

"Get out of here," Scott said, trying to force the anger out of his voice. "I told you all you needed to do was get him somewhere safe or help him out. I think you've overstayed your welcome."

Derek turned to leave before Stiles arm reached out in his direction. "Derek…I want you to stay…" Stiles said softly, his strength slowly going away as he felt the onset of sleep battling him ferociously. "Scott…he's right. I want you to leave me. Please…you've done enough."

Awestruck, Scott turned and left the hospital room without any further argument, leaving Stiles and Derek alone. Not before long, Stiles fell asleep in the bed, and Derek would be there when he woke up a few hours later. And Derek was there when he was processed and released from the hospital. Derek was with Stiles for it all.

* * *

_**So what did you think? Another clash between Scott and Derek, but this time Stiles gets himself involved? Yes ladies and gentlemen, and there will be more in the future. Until then, anonymous reviews are active, so please REVIEW, FOLLOW, and FAVORITE! Love you all!**_

_**See you next time!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. JEFF…Y U NO MAKE IT CANON!?**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with chapter 5! I had an awesome week, and I'm really happy right now. Nonetheless, I'll pull through to put out a new chapter. Now I know you're thinking: '**_**Why does being happy effect writing an update?'**_** Well, remember what type of story this is. It's angsty and stuff. So, saving my ranting for the end of the chapter, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and ENJOY! Here's chapter 5:**_

* * *

Stiles wasn't answering his phone.

He didn't want to have to deal with Scott right now. Not that Scott really cared or anything. He was probably off with Allison or something. That's where one could always expect to find Scott when he was worried. Stiles often had the misfortune of needing Scott at the exact moment that he was with Allison. Of course, Stiles wasn't mad at Allison at all! He thought that she was a nice enough girl, but he just didn't like the fact that Scott was a total douche whenever she was around. Stiles was starting to think that he might as well just be background furniture whenever Allison and Scott were together. He brushed off the thought and went back to staring at the ceiling.

Stiles rolled over on his side, the mattress making a little bit of noise as he did so. He grasped for the covers, pulling more up over his body to make himself more comfortable. That was something he used to do as a little kid. After his mom had passed away, Stiles often found himself alone in the Stilinski house, due to his father's work. He craved any human interaction he could have, but what he missed the most was the one thing he couldn't have: his mother's embrace. His father often came home late, and by that time Stiles was already off to his room and playing with Legos, or on rare occasions, even asleep. In order to make up for missing his mom's hugs, Stiles would pile up blankets on top of himself to simulate one. The covers wrapped just right around his body, and the warmth was as enveloping as what he once felt. Ever since then, this would serve to calm him down.

Derek's recent and strong embraces came to mind.

Even though he felt himself calming down, he still felt guilt weighing heavily on him for avoiding Scott. It had been a week since the incident with the knife and the Derek and the emergency room, and Scott was still clamoring to get answers out of Stiles. Every moment they were near each other in school, Scott tried to get Stiles to speak to him, but Stiles just didn't have the heart to do so. He was still angry at Scott, but more than anything he was just tired. Stiles was just glad that Derek hadn't shown up around him at all over the past week because if he had, Stiles was pretty sure that Scott would go ballistic.

Whatever. He didn't have the right to. It was Scott's idea to call Derek. He had to take the consequences. Stiles' train of thought was broken as his phone vibrated again. He left it alone to ring a few more times, until whoever was trying to contact him gave up.

Stiles still wouldn't answer his phone.

But that wouldn't stop the door from opening.

That wouldn't stop someone from going up the stairs.

Not answering the phone wouldn't stop someone from opening up his bedroom door.

Ignoring the phone call would only do one thing:

Piss off Lydia Martin.

"Dammit Stiles, why haven't you been picking up?" she questioned angrily. "Jesus, you used to always be all over me, but I haven't even so much as seen you this whole week! What the hell man?"

"Lydia, you and I both know the reason why I'm around you has changed. Is it really that heartbreaking to be without me for a few days?" Stiles inquired.

"Of course!" Lydia shot back. "Every girl needs her gay best friend!" As much as Stiles would like to deny the fact that Lydia was the first person he came out to, that wouldn't hide the fact that she was. And what a night that was...

* * *

Loud music filled the backyard area around the pool as a party was in full swing. Teens of all shapes, sizes, and egos were slamming down drinks and grooving to the music. Over in the makeshift dance floor, the mass of bodies were grinding and jumping to the beat of the pop song as they let the rhythm take over for them. Inhibitions were completely drowned out with cheap beers and vodka shots, and all that remained was slurred speech and lust-filled eyes.

End of the year parties were a huge thing, especially since that meant that everyone could get roaring drunk and not have to worry about having a hell of a hangover in school. Oh there would be a fucking terrible hangover, but they didn't seem to care. All that mattered was now, and now was pretty fucking awesome. Stiles was completely smashed, his face slightly red from all that he had had to drink. He stumbled around the pool, searching through all of the teens to find a familiar face, or at least to find a face that wasn't blurred. He would search for Scott, but he knew where he was without having to try too hard.

That's when Stiles saw Lydia.

She was standing just beyond the dance floor, waving to person after person as they called out to her. Her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she giggled at something her friend said in her ear, and her face was illuminated like an angel's. She was wearing a short, purple dress that was complimented by her pearl necklace and her beaming smile was easily visible from all over. After a brief moment of drunken debate in Stiles' clouded mind, he decided to muster up what was left of his dignity and courage and to go over to talk to her. She and Jackson agreed earlier that week to take a break from their relationship. This was something that Lydia could easily exploit if she wanted to, and something Stiles was hoping that she would take the chance of doing. The worst that could happen would be his utter embarrassment, but he somewhat thought that everyone would be too drunk to even know what was going on, or have any hope of remembering that night.

Stiles attempted to make his way through the dancing teens, but that was much easier said than done. He unfortunately picked the moment that a Skrillex song was playing to cross the dance floor. If he was sober, then he would have been alarmed with the number of times he was absolutely certain that he was just dance raped. However, no matter how much ass was currently in contact with his body, Stiles would not stop until he got the chance to talk to Lydia. With one final push, he broke through the wall, and was standing in front of her. She greeted him with her always friendly smile, and she spoke up.

"Hey! Are you enjoying the party, Stiles?"

Well that was a good sign. She remembered his name. Maybe there was hope after all.

"Hey Lydia!" Stiles returned, trying his best not to slur. "Can I talk to you in private for a sec?"

"Sure sweetie," she nodded. "Follow me!"

Stiles' mind was racing at a million miles an hour. Lydia was taking him to a separate room! After so many years, his dreams were finally coming true. The wound their way through the house, and went up the stairs to find a room on the second floor. She turned a doorknob and lead Stiles into the room. She sat down abruptly on the bed, and patted her hand on the bed next to her. His thoughts failed him for a minute, but then he stumbled his way over rather clumsily.

"So what do you need to talk about?"

Stiles swallowed. This was it. This was his one chance. They were alone. This was the only time. Now he could make his move.

"I love you Lydia!"

Word vomit. Shit. Fuck. Dammit. Not cool.

She giggled, and Stiles' mind stopped completely for the first time in his life. "What?" he chimed up. "Why are you laughing? It's true!"

"Oh sweetie," Lydia replied. "Are you sure? Have you ever even had a girlfriend before?"

"Well…no…" Stiles admitted rather pathetically. "Girls aren't exactly lining up to talk to me. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I just always see you joined to Scott at the hip even though he's dating Allison. He kind of pushed you to the side, so you pushed harder. It kind of seemed like jealously to me. Don't take this the wrong way, but I thought you were gay."

"Just because I want my best friend back doesn't mean I'm gay," Stiles shot back.

"How about that time you asked Scott if you were attractive to gay guys?" Lydia tried. "That kind of screams gay to me."

"You heard that?" he slurred in response. "Shit…well I didn't think Danny liked me, and I was just wondering if…"

Stiles was cut off abruptly by the feeling of Lydia's soft lips on his own. The moment he had been waiting for pretty much his entire life. But it wasn't quite what he expected. His heart was beating really fast, but that was pretty much it. There was no spark. There was no feeling. The kiss was cold, and he didn't experience anything out of the ordinary. His eyes remained open, as he didn't feel any pleasure whatsoever from the kiss. He didn't feel anything like he thought he would whenever they would kiss for the first time.

After a few more seconds, Lydia pulled away. She brushed her hand through her hair, and stared at Stiles directly. "Well? What did you think?"

"I…it didn't feel special…" Stiles admitted. "I thought I was supposed to feel something…"

"Stiles," Lydia caressed his back while she spoke. "There's nothing wrong with being gay. Why don't you figure it out, and then come talk to me. It can be pretty confusing."

"Okay…" Stiles said. "I'll sort things out…"

After a few months, Stiles came to terms with his sexuality. It was difficult, but he accepted it nonetheless. He reluctantly approached Lydia to tell her, and she had loyally kept it a secret ever since.

* * *

"So what happened?" Lydia asked. "You've been avoiding everyone like the plague."

"Well I'm not to entirely fond of people to begin with, so wouldn't you say that's normal for me?" Stiles began tossing a ball against the wall of his room as his conversation with Lydia continued. "I don't exactly have the best social track record."

"That doesn't give you the right to avoid me!" she sassed. "One does not simply avoid Lydia Martin! I always get to you one way or another."

"I guess I should know that by now," Stiles sighed, catching the ball again. "Well except for that one time when I climbed the tree to get away from you. You couldn't get me then."

"Oh shut up," she laughed. "That's the only time…"

Stiles pushed her shoulder slightly, all the while laughing along with her. She might not seem like it at first, but Lydia definitely was a good friend. While he might not always have Scott to go to, Stiles knew he could talk to Lydia for help with his problems. After all, he had enough dirt on her so that she wouldn't reveal anything about Stiles. Not that he would ever use it against her, but it was a great safeguard to have.

"So what's this I hear about you and Derek Hale?"

Fuck.

What?

How?

Right.

She's Lydia. She knows everything social.

"How did you know about him?" Stiles asked cautiously.

"Allison told me about this guy and how Scott was pissed at him for some reason. She said he helped you or something. Is he hot?"

"Hot?" Stiles questioned. "That's all you're thinking about? I should tell Jackson about that…but yeah. He is. BUT he's scary as all fucking hell. He's strong, intimidating, scary, and...why?"

"I don't know. The school tough guy, varsity athlete, and he's hanging around you. From what I've heard, he treats you well, and he seems to be more than capable of protecting you. Are you two a thing or what?" Lydia inquired.

"What?"

"You heard me. Are you two dating? He seems like he'd be good for you!"

"No," Stiles said, realizing the small hint of disappointment in his voice as he spoke. "No, we aren't."

"That's a shame," Lydia replied. "If the rumors are true, you want to look into that."

"Again…what?"

"Nothing! Now, go back to the incident. What happened?"

Stiles sighed to himself. There's definitely no one who could hold an inquisition better than Lydia. But, she made Stiles think.

'_Does Derek like me?_'

* * *

_**So what did you think? I thought it was time to mix up the characters a little bit. The rest of them will be entering the story soon, but I feel like Lydia needed to have this interaction with Stiles. The next few chapters are already written, so tune in next week! Until then, anonymous reviews are active, so please REVIEW, FOLLOW, and FAVORITE! No flat out hate please :3. Love you all!**_

_**See you next time!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. But I would be willing to write for them.**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! Here's another one of the chapters I wrote while I was supposed to be on hiatus. I'm dividing my time between two stories, but I have enough of these written, and with summer, I'll hopefully stay on track for updates. So saving my ranting for the end of the chapter, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, and ENJOY! Here's chapter 6:**_

* * *

Spirit week was probably the fucking stupidest thing to have ever been created by any human on the planet. Everyone in the school is bursting with fake school pride, all building up to the Homecoming football game, the Homecoming dance, and the crazy ass parties all weekend long. In the meantime, the students would spend all their days dressing up in stupid clothing to reflect shitty, unoriginal themes that were a complete waste of time. They might as well have been created by a five year old. Even teachers would try to add to school spirit by attempting to dress in theme, but they all failed miserably.

Stiles absolutely hated it.

In fact, it had the opposite effect on Stiles. It made Stiles hate the school more than he thought possible. All of the obnoxious dicks at the school became louder and more boisterous than usual. Because they thought that the school looked up to them, they set an example by making complete assholes of themselves, but doing it in the name of the school. Not to mention, all of their talk would be about how fucking excited they are to get fucking smashed on Saturday night after the dance. They went on and on about how they might have the chance to get lucky, and if not, at least they have booze.

The biggest douchebags at the time would be the football team. It was as if for one week, the entire school and everything that went on in it were centered around the team and their upcoming game. Stiles wasn't impressed. Why the fuck would he pretend to worship those assholes when the game on Friday wouldn't even be fair. The point of a Homecoming game was to choose a team that they could easily annihilate, and destroy them for five seconds of fame.

'_Congratulations, you stupid fucks! So you won your game? Big fucking deal! It'll be in the paper, and that's about it. Like playing football will actually get you anywhere…_' Stiles thought to himself as he munched on his sandwich. He was sitting in the middle of the overly-decorated cafeteria, busy working on studying for his Calculus test as he took another bite. He was sitting by himself as he had done so for the past week or so in order avoid Scott. Stiles glanced up briefly and saw Lydia walking over to the table, her strawberry blonde curls lively bouncing with every step she took. He waved at her, and she returned it with her signature smile.

"So, why has her majesty decided to grace me with her companionship today?" Stiles joked. "Maybe she's searching for more juicy gossip?"

"Oh come on Stiles," Lydia returned with a slight groan. "We both know that it's my job to be the gossipy bitch, not yours."

"Fair enough," Stiles laughed. "So what's up? You're usually with your entourage at this hour."

"Yeah well, the queen misses her jester," Lydia replied. "Also, I've been doing a little snooping. I got some more information on Derek Hale for you."

"Lydia! Don't say his name here!" Stiles was quick to scold, and then he pulled her closer. "But what did you find out? If you're this eager to tell me, it's got to be something."

"I'll tell you! But first, I have to ask you two questions."

Dammit. There's always a catch.

"Okay, fine. Fire away."

"Gladly," she replied. "First question, are you going to the football game on Friday and the dance on Saturday? Second question, why not?"

Wow. She's good.

But then again, Stiles is predictable when it comes to social events.

"No, I'm not going," Stiles replied. "I'm not going because I have no school spirit, and I don't really care for football. I play lacrosse, and that's about the only sport outside of watching the Olympics that I can tolerate. Well…I like swimming, but that's like underwater cross country. I'm so glad I quit that years ago."

"Sounds bad," Lydia quickly said without any interest. "Now you didn't answer about the dance."

"I'm not going to the dance because I have no friends, no social life, and no date. Is there really any reason for you bringing me down because believe it or not, you have actually succeeded in making me feel shitty," he answered glumly.

"Oh quit your pity party Stiles," she joked. "Well you're going to want to go to both of them, so make sure you buy a ticket for the dance!"

"What about the game?"

"Seriously? You don't go at all do you?"

Stiles shook his head.

"You buy your tickets there, but I'll get you in so you don't have to worry about the cost. Anyways, before I was rudely interrupted, you're going to want to go to both," Lydia repeated. "And you can't wimp out on me this time. It's not going to work that way. I will fucking drag you out here on your stomach if you can't get your lazy ass out of your room and down to the game."

"Bloody hell Lydia," Stiles groaned. "Why do you want to ruin my life? And what has this got to do with…"

"He's coming!" Lydia punched Stiles in the arm, quickly shutting him up.

Sure enough, Derek Hale was striding through the cafeteria. As usual, he was dressed in his monotonous black and grey clothing. However, he didn't look like his normal, brooding self. He looked…somewhat…happy. And Stiles thought that happy looked good on Derek. Even if it was something that would rarely be seen, Stiles enjoyed being allowed to witness it.

Actually…Stiles loved it.

But he would not admit that to himself.

"Hey Stiles," Derek said warmly. "Hi Lydia."

"Hiya Derek!" Lydia bounced. Stiles just nodded. He wasn't trying to be rude.

He just had no fucking idea about what he should say.

"So," Derek continued, with a little hesitation in his voice. "Are you two going to the game this Friday? It's Homecoming weekend, and we're trying to get as many people to show up as possible."

"I always go!" Lydia returned with a large smile on her face. Whether or not the smile was a real one was still to be determined. "But this one here…he almost never shows up to sports. He plays lacrosse, and he'll go to that, but that's about it."

"Sports aren't really my thing…" Stiles started to complain. He looked all around the cafeteria, determined not to make eye contact with Derek. "Now movies….movies are my thing. That's what I do."

"Could you make an exception? Just this once?"

And that was when Stiles decided to look.

Fucking hell.

Derek Hale.

Blushing.

What.

The.

Fuck.

It was faint, but it was definitely there. Stiles eyes locked onto it, and his mind began to race uncontrollably. It left just as quickly as it had come, but the blush definitely pushed Stiles over the edge on the decision.

"Yeah…" Stiles nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'll go."

"Great!" Derek said rather quickly. "I'll see you both there!"

With that, Derek turned around and walked away. But he walked a little faster than when he had arrived in the cafeteria. He had a little, almost unnoticeable pep in his step. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but Stiles couldn't read any of that.

Lydia on the other hand…she was feeling pretty smug.

"Okay, enough with the act. What did you want to tell me about him?"

"Oh god Stiles, if you haven't figured it out by now, then you're not as smart as I thought you were," Lydia sassed. "Derek goes to the football games because one of his friends is on the team. He also doesn't have a date to the dance, but there's rumors floating around that he's going. I had a chance to chat with him, and he said he is going, but he's not going to ask anyone because he doesn't want to risk being embarrassed."

"So you just want me to show up, swoop in, and make it a night to remember?"

"No," Lydia replied. "When you put it that way, it makes you sound like a man-whore."

"Because we all know that I'm that type of person. Stiles Stilinski: The Closet Man-Whore!" Stiles laughed even at the thought of something like that. "But in all seriousness, I'm just supposed to go because you think it will make him happy?"

"Apparently I need to spell this out for you," Lydia sighed. "He. Likes. You. We both saw the fucking blush, Stiles. I know you did because your face turned almost as red as a tomato the second you two made eye contact. Also, he's the school tough guy, all-star athlete, loner, everyone knows about him, yet he asked you personally to go to the game. Why would someone like that do so otherwise?"

"You heard him…" Stiles said, trying more to fool himself than to fool Lydia. "He said that they're looking for people to go, and they're trying to get as many people to go as possible. He could have asked a shit-ton of people, but we'd have no idea if he did."

"You're in denial."

"Am not."

"Are too," Lydia sneered back. "Just do this for me? For him? And for god sakes do something for yourself for once! You never know what will happen if you just took a chance! Do you want to end up regretting not going?"

"I have a feeling like I'm going to regret going either way," Stiles shrugged.

"Well aren't you just a little ball of sunshine?"

"The shiniest!"

* * *

And so here he was. Lydia had followed through on her promise, and she showed up at Stiles' house in order to drag him to the game. He was dressed in some worn out jeans and his signature red hoodie, and his spiked up hair was a little bit more prominent than usual. Lydia had chosen an outfit that was probably weather inappropriate, but if she looked good in it, she didn't care.

They were standing just inside the football stadium, tickets in pockets, and Lydia was leading Stiles through the crowd over to the students' section. They bumped their way through, and soon enough, Lydia was waving at a group of students who beckoned her and Stiles over happily. Among them was Allison and Scott.

Scott.

Stiles still wasn't entirely ready to face Scott, so he made an excuse up so that he could go somewhere else. He pulled on Lydia's sleeve and then whispered into her ear that he was hungry. All he received in return was permission to go to the concession stand and a threat that if he left, she'd expose him in front of the whole school and that she'd poison him with wolfsbane or something.

"Oh please," Stiles scoffed. "It's not like I'm a werewolf or anything!"

"Just don't leave," Lydia warned.

"I won't, I'm just hungry."

With those words, Stiles was off and searching for food. He managed to score a helping of curly fries and a cheeseburger. He found a seat in the bleachers so that he could enjoy his food, and he began stuffing curly fries in his mouth, and when he had about ten hanging out of his mouth, heard a familiar voice.

"Stiles?"

There was Derek Hale. In his black leather jacket. Smiling at Stiles. Who probably looked like an absolute pig at the moment. And who thought he was going to die of embarrassment.

God, it was going to be a long game.

* * *

_**Sorry about the little break between chapters. I keep getting stuck with the closing shift at work, and all I wanna do when I'm done is eat, then sleep. But I'm still putting out chapters for you! Next chapter is going to be the game, and then after that, the dance. I'm hoping to make them a little bit longer with the next few chapters. It's going to change pace really soon! In the meantime, check out my new story '**_**Running'**_** or check me out on tumblr at RussoGermany121 where you can request drabbles!**_

_**Anonymous reviews are active, no flat out hate please. So before you go, drop me a review, fav, or follow! See you tomorrow night for an update of '**_**Running**_**' and next week for chapter 7!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. Everyone knows that…**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! I know this is way late…I'm sorry…I had to finish up some summer stuff and my parents took away my laptop until I got it done. So I've been primarily working off of my cell phone, which isn't much for tumblr, and a simple spiral notebook. Plus I found the world of Nivanfield (Piers Nivans x Chris Redfield from Resident Evil). Anyways, my muse returned after seeing "The Way Way Back"…and here I am! So, saving my ranting for the end, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, and ENJOY! Here's (a rather late) chapter 7:**_

* * *

Goddammit.

Of all the people in the world to see him cramming his face full of curly fries…it would have to be…

Erica Reyes.

She truly was the Catwoman to his Batman. She was the antihero of his life. One moment, they team up for things like sports or projects or just hanging out like normal friends. The next moment, they're at each other's throats, spewing silent threats that mainly included vowing to take the other down. Yet no matter how many times Batman was able to best Catwoman, she would get one little taste of victory, and jump right back into the fight.

And there she was, sitting like the temptress she so believed she was. Stiles swore that if her hair was black, she'd be like a female Derek. She always wore a black leather jacket, black boots, and dark clothing to match it. The only spout of color on her other than her vibrant blonde hair was her crimson lipstick. That…and the phone in her hands.

Click!

Fuck.

"Mmrglflbmmm?" Stiles mumbled with a mouth still full of fries.

"I'm sorry Bruce Wayne," Erica winked. "I didn't quite catch that. Maybe Instagram did!" As she laughed, Stiles swallowed his fries, instantly trying to think of a comeback.

"Well Selina Kyle," Stiles retorted, "I thought a master thief such as you was much more capable of taking something like the crown jewels. Instead, you just settle for stealing shitty pics."

"It's not a bad pic!" Erica snapped. "Look! It's not blurry at all."

The second she revealed her phone, Stiles snatched it out of her hand and deleted the picture. He would be able to thank the League of Shadows for training him so well and giving him lightning fast reflexes. Catwoman didn't stand a chance.

"You're right," he laughed. "It's not a bad pic. Because it's not a pic anymore."

"Oh darn," she groaned rather exaggeratedly. "Too bad it's already online."

"Curse you!" Stiles yelled. "Foiled again! Except that you left your Instagram logged in…not to mention it was open as well. So you can kiss that curly-fry-faced clusterfuck goodbye."

"No fair Bruce!" Erica complained. "Why can't you just give people a hello hug like the rest of society?"

"Because I'm Batman," he replied, trying to make his voice sound like the post-tonsillectomy patient that was Bruce Wayne. At least, that's what the voice sounded like to Stiles. "Batman doesn't hug. He slugs."

"Well Catwoman wants a hug," Erica held her arms out. "And don't worry. I won't pickpocket you."

Stiles finally caved, and gave her a hug. She was his friend after all…even if they had an incredibly weird dynamic. As they separated, Stiles noticed that another figure had seemingly materialized out of thin air.

Derek Hale.

This guy was everywhere…

He was always everywhere and he was always in his children of the night clothing…

"Jeez Derek! Don't scare me like that!" Erica snapped. "You know I don't like it when people sneak up on me! Do you even remember what happened the last time?"

Derek shrugged, and then he let out a soft chuckle.

"I pepper sprayed your ass in the face," she continued. "Then my boyfriend and I had to drag your ass to some random place so we could wash your eyes out."

Stiles eyes flipped from Erica to Derek, and back to Erica again. Since it seemed like the two of them were in the middle of a conversation, Stiles thought that now would be the best time to sneak away. Food in one hand, Stiles tried to as discreetly as possible sneak down the bleachers. He took one step past Derek and felt a firm hand clasp directly on his shoulder. It spun him around unwillingly, and Stiles was forced to meet Derek's gaze.

"Glad you could come," Derek said roughly, a small smile sitting comfortably on his face. "I know Lydia said you don't like to come to these, but it's pretty cool that you did."

"Now now Derek," Erica teased. "He scares easily. I wouldn't be so sure that he even came here of his own free will."

"Yeah," Stiles scratched the back of his head sheepishly, looking down at his feet. "Lydia made a couple of convincing threats, showed up at my door, and then dragged me here kicking and screaming. You can even see the marks in the pavement over there from when I kicked free."

"You should know better than to try and get out of a deal with Lydia," Erica laughed. "She's relentless that one is…"

"Anyways I'm glad you're here," Derek said again. "I was wondering though if I could talk to you in private for a moment. It's kind of urgent."

"Oh…uhhh…" Stiles stammered like an idiot. "I…I guess…any objections, Catwoman?"

"Catwoman?" Derek inquired with a puzzled look on his face.

"Long story," Erica sighed. "And I have no objections Batman. Besides…Boyd is on his way."

"Cool," Derek said. "I hope you guys have fun tonight. Enjoy the game!" With that, Stiles and Derek started to walk down the bleachers. While his feet might have been walking, Stiles' head was running at a million miles an hour. Every single possibility ran through his head in the few moments it took to leave the stands. What did Derek want? Food? Friendship? Murder?

Stiles was completely freaking out.

No. To say that would be an understatement.

He was having a total nuclear meltdown inside of his head.

They turned at the bottom and headed for the gate. If Lydia found out that he left, or even thought that he did, she'd be pissed. However, Stiles thought that if he would tell her that Derek was the one who got him out of the football game, then she wouldn't be so mad.

On the other hand, Scott would also be mad if he found out that Stiles left with Derek again. Not that Stiles cared what Scott thought at the moment…but he just really didn't want the conflict. Using Derek as an alibi would only work on Lydia, but Stiles was definitely sure that Scott saw him. Either way, he was going to lose here if Scott saw him leaving the game. Not to mention, he'd probably blame it on himself if Stiles didn't tell Derek. This would be followed by an emotional Scott running off to Allison, and Lydia would tell Stiles everything that Allison would tell her.

'_You know what?_' Stiles thought. '_I don't really care. I can make my own decisions. Who knows…this might actually be exciting for once!_'

The exited the stadium behind a group of deer caught in headlights, or "freshman" as they are supposed to be called. God, freshmen at football games were the worst. All they did was stand around in little circles and talk to each other, whereas everyone else would be watching the game. If you happened to be behind them in line at a concession stand, then you were screwed because they let all of their friends jump up with them. Stiles hated most of the freshmen. His thoughts snapped back to his current journey when Derek grabbed Stiles arm and took the lead. As he did so, he turned his head to say something to Stiles. "Over there should be good," he said. "I just want to talk to you for a minute."

Holy shit.

What the fuck was Derek doing?

What did he want?

Why did they have to be secluded from everyone else?

All questions that Stiles was trying to answer himself, but none of his answers seemed realistic…or appropriate. No matter what was flying through his head though, two thoughts were always at the front of his mind: that Lydia claimed Derek liked him and that Derek was getting him alone. Everything else aside, Stiles couldn't help but feel one thing.

He was excited.

They stopped just inside the tree line, and it was Derek once again who made a move. He turned around and placed both of his hands on Stiles' shoulders, and looked straight into his eyes. It was then that Stiles knew that was going on. He recognized that same look as the look that Derek gave him in the hospital.

It hurt Stiles. It hurt him to know that he was hurting someone. It hurt him to know that he was a burden. It hurt him because he was worrying someone that he had feelings for. What those feelings were, Stiles still wasn't entirely sure. But it all hurt.

He didn't want to be pitied…to be babied…to be looked down upon. That's how Stiles saw it. He knew that others didn't think of him as a strong person. He thought that they always saw him as just the weak little runt who stood under his bulldog Scott. Well he didn't like it. And he certainly didn't want Derek pitying him.

"I'm fine," Stiles quickly stated before Derek could start talking. "I've kept up my end of our deal. You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine. I'm one hundred percent fine."

It sounded robotic. It sounded icy. It sounded hollow. And Stiles knew it.

Derek's look didn't fade. If anything, it looked like he had just found out that his puppy died or something. Stiles was at a loss. He thought he had told Derek what he wanted to know, so why were things still awkward and tense? What was running through Derek's mind?

The silence was what bugged Stiles more than anything.

He hated silence.

But that's how he lived. Stiles could talk a lot, but the pain built up and his true self was screaming to be let out. It was a scream that would never be heard. Stiles had hidden himself away…deep inside. He surrounded the fragility and shattered fragments that pieced together by constructing walls. Whenever he found himself under attack, sarcasm was his only defense. Sarcasm and getting a jump on the enemy were the only ways that Stiles hoped would help him to survive the hell known as high school. However, Derek seemed to be able to see right through him.

It was as though Derek could see into Stiles soul. It was like he could see through everything Stiles worked so hard to put up.

Not even Scott or Lydia could pull it off…and he'd been friends with them for a long time.

"Look…Derek…" Stiles stammered out. "It's not really a conversation if you don't say anything back to me." He reached up and ruffled his own hair, and he placed a fake smile on his face in an attempt to lighten the mood. "C'mon Derek…"

No response. Not a verbal one at least.

Derek's head just drifted downward as he stared at the ground.

'_And I thought _I _was supposed to be the depressed one_,' Stiles thought. He didn't like seeing Derek like this.

"Stiles," he finally said. His voice was soft and wavering. "You scared the shit out of me."

"But I told you that…"

"I KNOW WHAT YOU TOLD ME," Derek yelled. "And ever since you've said what you did in the hospital, it's been festering in my mind. I can't watch someone throw their life away! You're so important to so many people! You're so loved! When you told me you thought about suicide…I just…"

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and pulled him close, so their bodies were flush together. He rested his head on Derek's shoulder and raised one hand to stroke the back of his head. Stiles felt his body shaking, but it hurt him that Derek was reduced to this because of what he had said in the past. He kept stroking the back of Derek's head, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear to calm him down.

"Derek," he began. "Listen to me right now. Look at my face." Derek did as he was told. When Stiles was sure that he had the larger teen's full attention, he grabbed one of Derek's hands and placed it over his heart. "You feel it…my heart beating. It's steady. It's still kicking. I promise you that I will do nothing to change that. While I may not have many people who care about me…I truly treasure those that I do have. My heart will continue to beat for them, as long as they believe in me and I believe in them. My heart beats for them. It beats for you too Derek. So please don't worry anymore…I can do this. I can be strong too."

"Okay…" Derek nodded. He pulled Stiles back into the embrace they had a few moments ago, and Derek regained his composure. He pulled himself back down to reality using Stiles as his own anchor…using their own heartbeats that were resonating in unison…

He allowed Stiles to bring back some hope into his life.

And Stiles allowed Derek to do the same to him.

* * *

_**Oh…my…gosh…I'm so sorry about how late this is. I got my laptop taken away, and this has actually been done for a while. But anyways…next chapter should actually be the moments leading up to the dance, and if I decide to combine chapters, the dance itself!**_

_**If you want a sneak peak at the next chapter, leave the phrase "Piepocalypse 2013" in your review, and I will pick one person at random to receive the preview!**_

_**Anonymous reviews are active! No flat out hate please. Until next time, please review, favorite, follow, and share with your friends! You can follow me on tumblr at russogermany121. See ya next time!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Teen Wolf. That belongs to the wonderful masochist known as Jeff Davis…**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with another update on this wonderful weekend! I'm only saying it's wonderful because it is a weekend. Otherwise there would be no wonder, and we certainly wouldn't be full of it. Anyways, I decided to make this a long chapter! Yay! What madness will happen at the Beacon Hills Homecoming!? So saving some of my ranting for the end, please READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE, and ENJOY! Here's chapter 8:**_

* * *

"Okay, I just texted Derek," Lydia said. "He keeps apologizing for taking you out of the stadium. I don't know why he thinks I'm mad though."

"I might have said that you dragged me to the game at gunpoint," Stiles shrugged. "He seemed to be a little bit scared when I said that you carried a pistol in your purse for safety reasons. I even said that you shot someone once."

"STILES!" Lydia shouted. "You totally didn't!"

"Uh, yeah I did," he returned. "Consider us even now. But you shouldn't be too worried. He's been pepper sprayed before by Erica. I think he's learned his lesson about sneaking up on girls when they're alone."

"What about guys?"

"Not so much."

Lydia removed a bottle of nail polish from one of her various makeup kits and held it up. She closely examined the bottle, and then glanced over at the dress on the bed. Then her eyes gaze shifted over towards the shawl. She looked back towards the bottle before she spoke up.

"Should my polish match my shawl or my dress?" she asked politely.

"Go with the dress," Stiles responded. "We both know when you get there, you'll turn your shawl in at the coat check."

"Speaking of colors," Lydia said. "Derek's going to be wearing black."

"He'll stop wearing black when they invent a darker color…"

"Yeah but it's not possible to turn his creepy uncle's soul into a color," Lydia remarked.

"Creepy uncle?" Stiles was confused. This was the first he had heard of any of Derek's relatives.

"Yeah," Lydia explained. "I ran into him once…and the second he tried to make any kind of contact with me, I dropped his ass on the pavement. It was a dynamic duo of pepper spray and a nut-punch. Anyways, Derek lives with his uncle. His parents died when he was younger."

"Oh…"

"Don't bring it up when you're around him, okay? I don't think that would be a way to make a good impression or make him happy," she continued. "I mean, how bad would it be if you just went: 'So Derek, I heard your parents are dead!' because that would just suck if you actually said that."

"I get it," Stiles moaned. "But as for colors, I'm wearing a white shirt with a black tie. I'm not trying to match anyone. Besides, it would look awfully creepy if I showed up matching Derek when he didn't even tell me what he was wearing. Not to mention, didn't you say that people were talking about Derek not asking someone to the dance because he was too shy?"

"You're so oblivious sometimes. It makes me want to smack you in the face with a paddle that says REALITY on it. I think it would help you," Lydia sassed. "Now seriously though…would you at least think about it? Come up with a clever excuse like you always do! If not, then I'll tell him to wear a white tie. You guys could be like Yin and Yang! The symbol for Yin and Yang kind of reminds me of…"

"AND on that note I think I'll leave…"

"Good," Lydia smiled. "Allison's coming over so we can do makeup and hair for tonight. We have a lot of work to do and so little time to do it!"

"…you've got 8 hours…how is that only a little bit of time?"

"God, you're such a boy," she sighed. "Doesn't matter if you give us 30 minutes or 30 days…a girl will spend every single second of that amount of time she has to get ready. I thought I taught you better...you disappoint me Sties!"

"You're psychotic," Stiles teased.

"Only when I want to be," Lydia laughed back. "You're going to swing by for pictures tonight, right?"

"What time should I be here?"

"Around 7 o'clock. And Scott will be here…so do you think you could make up with him before tonight?"

"I don't know…" Stiles said with a heavy heart. "Lydia…knowing that he would rather be at Allison's house than help his best friend…he just pushes me to the sidelines now…"

"But you know he cares," Lydia pointed out. "Otherwise he wouldn't pester Allison so much to ask me how you're doing. He wouldn't be asking me via text if you're okay every few minutes. Can't you two just talk things over?"

"I guess…" he sighed. "I'll talk to him…"

"Fantastic!" Lydia said excitedly. "He's already on his way to your house!"

"What!?"

"I texted him of course!"

"You bitch!"

* * *

Stiles dreaded it. For once, he was actually driving under the speed limit because he wasn't in a hurry to see Scott. He needed to plan out what he had to say. But what was the point? Stiles knew that the second he got there, everything he had planned to say would slip away, and the emotions would come to the surface. More than anything, Stiles wanted to tell him how he felt. However, he saw no possible scenario where he could say that without making Scott feel like shit by the end of what would probably be a one-sided shout-fest.

He made another turn, and he continued to think of other ways to talk to Scott. Maybe he could play it cool like he hadn't seen him. But Stiles knew that would never work. They saw each other in school almost every day. Through awkward eye contact, quickly diverting attention elsewhere, and acting like a complete idiot who would do anything in their power to completely avoid Scott, Stiles knew that Scott would never buy it.

Bringing up Derek at the beginning would be a complete red flag. He'd make Scott get mad and that was another no. If anything, Stiles just wanted a freaking resolution to this stupid quarrel. He had no idea how this would turn out in the end, but he just wanted it to end.

Stiles stopped the Jeep, put it in park, and got out. He immediately noticed Scott's motorcycle in front of his house, and he knew there was no turning back now. Somberly, Stiles walked into his house, and only nodded when his dad said that Scott was upstairs. Each step felt like a thousand, and his feet were like lead. They didn't want to move, and neither did he.

After what seemed like an eternity, Stiles reached his bedroom door. He reached for the handle, and he hesitated for a single moment. There was still time to run.

But running wouldn't solve anything.

He wanted his best friend back.

And that was absolutely final.

Slowly, he pushed the door open to his room. When he lifted his head up, Stiles saw Scott leaning on the desk in his room. He was examining one of the many pieces of paper that were scattered around Stiles' room, and when Stiles had entered, he put it down. When Stiles and Scott made eye contact, Stiles saw it.

He saw the regret weighing on Scott.

"Stiles…" his best friend began.

"Scott, you don't have to…"

"But I need to," Scott quickly interjected. "I need to get it out."

"Okay," Stiles nodded.

"Look…I know that I've been an ass. I know that I've been blowing you off. I know that I haven't been there for you, and I'm such a shitty best friend. I have absolutely no idea how you put up with me sometimes. Ever since I started dating Allison, I've been trying to spend every single moment with her, and I completely shut you out…and that was a dick move."

Stiles was astonished at the words that were coming out of Scott's mouth. He never in a million years expected him to say anything like this.

"I had no idea how bad it was for you. I was a complete wreck after the hospital incident. It really opened my eyes. That…the belittling from Derek…and the constant berating from Lydia via text. She told me what was going on with the bullying, and how much I left you alone. I know now how badly my choices were reflected on you. I think I love her…but I need to keep you in my life as well. So don't even think for a second that I would voluntarily shut you out. It was a big mistake, and I hope with my whole being that you can find it in yourself to forgive me."

"Scott…" Stiles began. "I'll admit…I was kind of mad that you kept ditching me for Allison…but I forgive you. She's your girlfriend, and she makes you happy. You deserve that. I just don't want to be forgotten…otherwise I don't think your mom would even call me her son anymore…"

"You're like a brother to me Stiles," Scott replied. "And sometimes brothers do stupid shit to one another. This was my turn to act like that. I'm sorry, and I don't want you to feel alone anymore. From now on…if I start talking about Allison too much, or I start ditching you…punch me in the face and say 'HEY! SCOTT! I'M RIGHT HERE!' Okay?"

"I won't punch you…but I will send out a giant bat signal that says something along those lines," Stiles smiled.

Scott extended a hand, and Stiles took it without hesitation. They both pulled into a tight bro hug like they used to all the time. Before Allison, before high school, before anything. It reminded Stiles of when they were little kids together, playing in one of their houses until the sun set, and then begging to spend the night. It reminded Stiles of when Scott had promised to always be there for him when Claudia passed away and vice versa when Scott's dad left.

He was glad to have his brother back.

"Thanks Stiles," Scott choked out. "I'm glad that you could forgive me."

"We're brothers after all," Stiles smiled. "I'll always forgive you."

They stood there for a moment in the room. It was nice to have closure. It was nice to have Scott back. But more than anything, it was nice that Scott was the one who saw what he had done. Stiles didn't want to have to tell Scott what he thought he should do, when Stiles knew that he had done some pretty bad things himself. He shut out Scott at every turn, but now he was glad that he wouldn't have to deal with this anymore. He was really glad that his friend was back.

"Oh, and about Derek…"

Fuck.

"Could you tell him that I'm sorry? I'm sorry that I snapped at him and that I was a total ass," Scott said while looking at the floor.

"Why don't you just tell him at the dance tonight?"

"Well I'd rather have you say it so that he doesn't try to kill me…" Scott admitted.

"I'm going tonight, so I'll make sure he doesn't," Stiles reassured. "I'll vouch for you, and all you have to do is look like a completely kicked puppy."

"Wait…you're going to the dance tonight!?" Scott asked. "I thought you didn't like going to school dances."

"I've been threatened by Lydia to go," he shrugged. "Actually, you could probably have your talk when we go to take pictures at Lydia's house. She told me that he might go to that. Just letting you know."

"You're…are you being serious?" Scott inquired quietly. He usually wasn't afraid of people. However, he was definitely afraid of the big bad Derek Hale.

"Y'know what? I'll just talk to him in school on Monday for you," Stiles suggested. "But for now, let's get ready for that dance."

* * *

So there they were at 8 P.M. The cafeteria had been completely transformed from the dull and ordinary lunch room into a passable excuse for a school dance with the assistance of some randomly placed decorations. Even still, the place was packed with students. Chairs that lined the sides contained a few people here and there, but the majority of people were dancing in a bunch of little circles that combined to make a freaking mosh pit. The middle would be unbearably hot, but that's where it's the most fun. The seniors and juniors usually took to the middle of the dance floor, and the underclassmen would be around the edge.

Those who were seemingly overheated and just wanted a quick break from dancing, or their dates, were standing over by the refreshments. Assorted sodas, punches, and bottles of water covered the table so that anyone who needed something to drink would be satisfied. The lights were turned off, except for those that surrounded the DJ at the turntables. The strobe lights and colored lights provided enough light for the dance. It was well enough lit so that you could see where you were going, but not enough for the chaperones to see into the middle.

The group entered the cafeteria, Lydia and Jackson at the front. They had chosen the color red, with Lydia in a stunning strapless. She had a black lace shawl that wrapped around her shoulders, and a bright red rose corsage on her right wrist. Of course, her nails, her lipstick, and her shoes had all been as equally crimson as the dress. Jackson's red shirt was remarkably close to the same color, and his black tie was a good accent to the outfit. She hung onto his arm once they passed into the room, and she began to drag him into the middle.

Scott and Allison weren't that far behind. Blue was their color of choice. It was dark and metallic, but Allison's dress was beautiful. It had one strap and a small sweetheart neckline, as well as a bottom that really flowed. Scott looked absolutely enamored whenever he looked over at her, with good reason. Allison Argent was gorgeous.

Erica and Boyd were already in the middle from what Stiles could observe, and the other four teens were just making their way over. Stiles wasn't quite ready to dance, so he went over towards the rows of chairs along the sides of the cafeteria. He had dressed exactly the way he said he would. And what he meant by that was that Stiles dressed exactly the way Lydia told him to dress. He had black pants, a black shirt, and a checkerboard tie with alternating black and white squares. He thought that if he did that, then people wouldn't think he had tried to match Derek's outfit.

Speaking of Derek, he was absolutely nowhere to be found yet. He hadn't shown up for the pictures, but he apparently texted Erica saying that he'd just go straight to the dance. At least that meant there were no awkward pictures beforehand. Well…there had been some awkward pictures with Isaac, but that's beside the point. Stiles wondered how no one else saw that Isaac was head over heels for Scott. You could even tell from the group photos. Almost every single group photo had Isaac right next to Scott with his arm around him, and even some of the personal photos. Stiles could tell just by looking at him…and the fact that Isaac had told him a few months back.

"Aren't you going to come and dance with the rest of us?"

Speaking of Isaac…

"Nah," Stiles shook his head. "I'll look like a complete idiot if I try to dance. I'm just here because Lydia threatened me."

"Well I could always get Erica and Lydia to drag you into the middle with all of us," Isaac suggested. "I'm sure they would be happy to do so."

"Oh fuck off," Stiles shot back. "Shouldn't you be busy grinding against Scott?"

"In case you forgot," Isaac blushed. "Allison's here with him. I can't dance with him when she's dancing with him…"

"Well then it looks like you're in luck," Stiles spoke a little louder so he could be heard over the music. "Allison looks like she's leaving the middle to go to the bathroom!"

"Really!?" Isaac cheered up. He stood straight up, and he bid Stiles goodbye. Once he had done so, Isaac began pushing his way back into the middle of the dance floor. Isaac was so excitable. He was like a puppy.

"Too easy…" Stiles laughed to himself.

"What was?"

"Getting rid of Isaac," Stiles answered. He didn't even have to turn to know that it was Derek who sat down. The dude seemed to appear everywhere out of thin air. By now, he shouldn't even be surprised. "It's funny how certain things can completely distract him."

"I see," Derek answered. "I'm kind of surprised that you came to the dance. Even though Lydia probably dragged you here again, that's two in a row!"

"Hey well if one is an incident, two is a coincidence!" Stiles laughed. "That's what my dad always said."

"What's three?"

"Three's a pattern, and I probably won't be going to another social even any time soon," Stiles admitted. "Anyways I shouldn't be here. I have no date, my friends are all having fun on the dance floor, and I don't even like most of the people who are in this school who are here."

"But that's the point of a school dance, isn't it? To dance?" Derek asked.

Stiles face went bright red. And for once Stiles thanked the DJ for having red lights flashing around the room so that his blush wasn't visible. Was Derek asking him to dance?

"Come on," Derek grabbed Stiles arm. "Everyone's in the middle, so why don't we join them?"

Just as Stiles was about to protest, the music changed to something he finally recognized from his hours on YouTube. Suddenly, he wasn't being pulled by Derek, but he was the one pulling Derek towards everyone. "Hurry up!" he shouted. "I love this song!"

As they entered the dance circle that was made up of Stiles' friends, everyone said hey, and they all started moving to the beat. The song was just building up. Thank goodness they made it in time for Stiles favorite part: the drop.

"LET'S GO!" Everyone shouted, and then the music changed drastically.

Some people began to jump, but others dropped down. The strobe lights were flashing all over the place, and everyone in the cafeteria was moving. Stiles let himself get taken in by the music, and he moved his hips. He bumped into someone behind him, and that person put their hands on his waist. When he felt the hands on his waist, Stiles grabbed onto one, and the other one he used to reach up and grab the back of the person's neck.

Once in this intimate position, their movements became more frantic. Stiles didn't stop moving his hips once, but he was also body rolling backwards and grinding with his "dance partner". It was hot, and it was heated, but it felt so fucking good to just let everything out. Even more to his liking, the circle seemed to have collapsed, and everyone was dancing with a respective partner. Lydia had Jackson, Scott had Allison, Erica had Boyd…

And Stiles had Derek.

And he fucking loved it.

It was in that moment, when he was sure that no one would see him because everyone was writhing against each other, that he decided to have a little more fun. The same beat repeated, and Stiles was no longer moving to Derek's rhythm. He was grinding back into his hips, but he kept their upper bodies together. Stiles was setting the pace for this dance. And Derek had absolutely no problems keeping up with it. He felt Derek's chin come to rest in the crook of his neck, and he felt Derek's hot breath on his neck. It sent shivers up Stiles's spine, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"SAY YEAH!"

The song mellowed for a moment, and they separated as the song's melody changed again. Stiles turned around though, and then they closed the gap slowly.

"SAY YEAH!"

This time, as the beat picked up, they were face to face. Their bodies were close like last time, but they were staring right at each other. Hands were around waists, and they were moving side to side as the song built up for the second time. The beat dropped again, and Stiles pushed the envelope a little bit further. He started rolling his hips forward, against Derek. And he was absolutely positive that Derek knew what he was doing. Derek ground his hips against Stiles, and he brought his face right against the side of Stiles'. His lips were ghosting along his ear, and Stiles felt as though his knees would collapse.

If this was dancing with Derek…

But they pulled apart as the song ended. Each kept the other's gaze for a few moments, and the tension was fucking unbearable. They moved a little closer, but as he realized what was happening, Stiles looked away. He didn't just look away, but he walked away. Not just walking, but he ran away. He ran to his Jeep, ducking between crowds of people so that he could get there faster. He heard his name being called out after him.

"Stiles!" Derek called out. "Stiles come back!"

But Stiles didn't listen. His heart was hammering out of his chest, and his eyes began to water slightly as he got closer to the vehicle. The cool air would have given him a little chill, but his entire body was heating up. He felt feverish wherever Derek touched him. Wherever Derek made contact, Stiles felt like he was on fire. His face was now crimson and he tried desperately to hide it.

He couldn't take it. He knew that he had fallen pretty bad for Derek. He wanted Derek to like him too, but all he had heard were rumors. That's all that ran through Stiles' mind once they had finished their dance together: "They're just rumors. He doesn't like you. Time to wake up." He could feel his heart breaking and he tried so hard to keep it together until he was alone.

Stiles reached the Jeep, but Derek did so as well. Stiles didn't account for Derek's athletic prowess. He thought that he would have had enough time to get to his Jeep while Derek stood in shock on the dance floor. But that wasn't the case. Derek Hale was standing in front of Stiles, blocking the door to the driver's seat.

"Derek," Stiles choked out, trying to hold back tears. "Let me leave…"

Derek didn't say anything. He didn't move. He just stood there.

"Derek," Stiles said again, looking down at the ground. "Let me leave…please…"

This time he responded.

"Look at me," Derek requested. "Please Stiles, just look at me."

And Stiles did. His watering eyes forced themselves to look into Derek's captivating gaze, and Stiles was about to lose it. "I can't do it anymore…" Stiles began. "I can't be around you anymore…"

"Why?" Derek asked, eyes not once leaving Stiles'. "Why do you have to leave?"

"I can't…" Stiles said. "I can't tell you…"

"Show me," Derek whispered. He raised his hand up to Stiles' cheek, and his thumb gently rubbed it. Stiles felt Derek's other hand make its home on his hip as it had just done inside. And Stiles' mind just about short circuited. Derek leaned in, and Stiles felt himself getting lost in Derek. He closed his eyes slowly, and their foreheads gently touched. They both stopped, a mere inch away from each other. It was scary, and it was exciting. Just when Stiles thought he could bear it no longer, Derek closed the distance.

Their lips met gently, and time stood still. Stiles felt his breath hitch, and his mind went completely blank of everything. Instead, all he was thinking were replaced with once simple thing. He felt himself getting lost in Derek Hale. Stiles' soft lips didn't dare pull away from Derek, and hands began to roam. He felt Derek's calloused hand come to rest on the back of his head, but their bodies were perfectly against one another. As the kiss continued, Stiles mind and body became filled with only one idea, one feeling, and one thing: Derek.

They pulled apart momentarily to breathe, but they resumed the kiss. Their lips were parted slightly as they kissed, but Derek was still gentle with Stiles. Stiles was getting swept away with everything Derek. He felt Derek's own heart racing in unison with his own. Their resonating heartbeats went right alongside one another, and nothing had ever been more perfect. Stiles wished that he could stay in this moment forever. He wished that this feeling of ecstasy would never fade. He wished for Derek's kiss to never end.

All that mattered right now was Stiles and Derek.

Nothing else seemed important.

They only wanted to remain in the embrace they shared, as they lovingly kissed one another under the stars.

After a few more seconds, they broke the kiss, and a star-struck Stiles continued to gaze into Derek's captivating eyes as he spoke. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go back in. Maybe they might play something slow for us."

* * *

_**So glad I finally got around to a kiss! You guys have no idea…well maybe you do. I know this chapter was super long, but it's a little gift from me to you. The song that was played that they danced to is called "**_**Lololololol"**_** by Popeska. I DO NOT OWN THAT.**_

_**If you want a sneak peak at the next chapter, leave the word "pack" in your review, and I will pick one person at random to receive the preview!**_

_**Anonymous reviews are active! No flat out hate please. Until next time, please REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and share with your friends! You can follow me on tumblr at russogermany121 for story updates and drabbles. See ya next time!**_


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